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Shofi Ahmed Feb 2019
The sun was so close to
the fingertips of the earth mother
while the rose bloomed so bright
the first morning the sun rose on the earth.
The sun spaced up high up to the blue sky
so the colour of the rose may not wither.

The mother Fathima smiled even brighter
upon the rose, the sun draws back every sunrise
is ever closer till to date a colour never withers!
js Nov 2018
It withers

near a bare
tree,

under skies
filled with
gray.

It withers

with tired petals
amid dullness, and

rain.

I see it wither

here.

I see what

remains.

Poor haggard

thing

with no place to
go.

I see it wither here

without
ever seeing
it

grow.
John Mendoza Jan 2019
Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone

There’s no love around my way cause my heart just don’t feel the same

As my eyes open wide, I see there’s no sunshine yet I still pretend like everything is alright

But ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
But ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone

Can’t water the flowers of his soul if the darkness already took its toll, there’s no sunshine so all he ever feels is cold

But ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
But ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
Pagan Paul Jul 2018
.
In a costume of conflicting emotion,
of crossing diamondic colour,
with regal posture in grief,
the Harlequin and the King,
a display of opposites
creating a composite being,
that eases her body
gently into the waiting water,
to float away serene,
on her journey to the nether.

Midnight blue and emerald green,
the regalia of ermine,
both ostentatious and humble,
robeing the aspects,
understated in crowning splendour,
the gentleman King bows,
and the Harlequin laughs,
the bi-polar reaction
to the tragedy of misfortune,
with a sting in the myth-tale.

With the dark hues of mourning,
a legend passes on her way,
across the streams of time,
on a voyage to discover herself,
carrying her Harlequin in a purse,
holding her King to her breast,
owning them both in her heart,
the medicine wheel spins,
knowing the grapes of wrath
yield the wine of spite.

The motley speckles of attire,
a starry parody of night skies,
lighting the decorated funeral barge,
gliding along the rivers of space,
worn with the mantle of sorrow,
and it sails into the sunset,
as the Harlequin and King observe,
the mandala turns,
the bier of the Queen departing,
bears their sadness forth.

The Harlequin laughs and laughs 'til he cries,
his heart grows cold, then withers and dies,
whilst the King, statuesque, memoirs his life,
lamenting the legend of a Queen, his wife.



© Pagan Paul (24/07/18)
.
Sanjali Sep 2018
17
-Hello Love-

Perhaps it’s been a thousand years,
the rivers have shifted so,
the lakes I swam in, have gone dry
the waterfalls though, overflow.
And so it is, that I have wandered back
tugged furiously throughout days
by this rugged tinkling thread
back to this ancient maze.

Most surely it’s been several weeks
the leaves are rough to touch,
the grass withers where I step
but trees don’t ask for much.
And so it is, that I have rambled on
pulled strangely through the haze,
at last I fall under the rays of morn,
My love, I’m home again.
Lost and found
King Panda May 2016
this table in the
shade
these commune hippies
in the river
I wrote a poem
in my sleep
I looked at the mountains
and thought
rain
staccato
metronome
irrigation
and caps
melting
but enough of this
nature
let’s go back
to the concrete
mouth
where we walk
through the city
full of cake
bloated like
balloons
but rolling
because
cake doesn’t make
you float
no
cake only makes you
fat
the conversation turns
to the stench
there’s something dying
in the air
we leave
and roll joints
spot magnums
on tree branches
and think
only monkeys ****
in trees
and we would never
want to see
monkey ***
and ******?
no
we’d never try it
and the homeless man next to us
puts his spoon
away
but god
why do we sleep
when we just wake up?
why do we sleep
to dream
such ******-up
things
where celebrities
feed us salami in
back alleyways
and we see our mother
pooping on
world maps?
time rips of
lyrical grass
conductive smile
soap bubbles
these beautiful
dreamtime mornings
spent thinking of you
in playhouse mountains
like a child
you smile
like a friend
I offer you my hand
and we walk
to the white
together
bill withers is there
he is singing
in his yellow
turtleneck
Najla Jul 2019
She gave me a flower bouquet
like leaving behind a weeping
bouquet of lilies to wilt softly
on the grave of a loved one

The aromatic scent of lilies
couldn’t overcome the mist
of death ruled by Achlys

The forsaken flower quivers
over the piercing whispers
of her impending doom
when her youthful roots
were unwillingly cut

She withers upon my grave,
and emits the scent of death and I

The decayed petals drop
like blood from cut vines
The brittle dried flower
rots as its color fades from
pure-white and pink
to senescing brown

A slight tint of pink still lingers
as what’s left of her love

The corpse flower
scentless bloom of death belongs
Ghosts with feverish smiles shall
visit me with a bitterly cold embrace
Natalie Apr 2018
My pupils scatter and drag.
I dream and eat the round, brown beads
In fitful sleep, my tongue pale and sallow.
This consciousness will not float.
The lids clatter shut like a kettle drum cooker,
A thing alive inside, more or less.
There is an echo,
Scuttle, and a cough. Strangers in the cellar.
There is no rightness to this, only sacrilege.
The unjust man chatters in my skull.
"Go home, go home!", I cry.
The sense of it all withers with the passing of the years.
Stormy Grey Dec 2014
There comes a time
In everyday,
Where sense of reality
Withers away,

In hours or seconds-
Days or years,
Your soul will awaken,
Along with your tears.

Red as the roses
And weeping like willows,
The windows start crying
While your lungs start to billow.

But when this time comes,
And you cant get away,
Please stick around
For at least one more day.

I know things are hard,
But they will be okay,
Please let down your guard,
We will make it someday.

Stormy
They say there is a stone that tethers the heart.

A stone that calms the mind, even in the most horrendous of storms.

A serenity stone.

We have spent centuries searching for this stone.

We have written letters of hope, expecting word on its whereabouts.

We have chased after those who appeared to be the stone, but they only proved to be jagged daggers of glass, white-hot and coated in venom.

They break at the slightest touch.

Yet they say there is a stone, one that is unshakeable, immovable.

A serenity stone.

We are in dire need of this stone, but with each passing day, we believe that these tales are mere fantasy.

Where we believe there to be hope, we find only torment.

Where we believe there to be solace, we find only cold abandonment.

As time marches forth, we are surrounded by those who have found their stone, and our mind grows darker, and hope withers away.

They say there is a stone, one that will not abandon you.

A serenity stone.

But we cannot find her, and we are slipping into madness.
For those who have found their serenity stone in their partner, I applaud you. Perhaps someday I will find mine.
Donall Dempsey Jun 2018
STARRY STARRY NIGHT

She switched off the moon.

Plucked out the stars.

A little dog barked
as her scream scrawled:

“This time life has gone...too far.”

She took an overdose of sleeping tablets
in her big bright red car.

The day withers
that was once in bloom.

Petals fall
in an empty room.

The moon wept.
The stars cried.

Life was for living... Life lied.
Mikaela L Dec 2019
One of my curls delightfully wraps around his finger,
My hand reaches for his finger, sizes the awful curl,
A word of hate strikes the lover.

You love me, but what is love?
Love is patience,
Love is kindness,
Love is wise,
My love, we are none of those things,
Our love's impatient,
Our love's cruel,
Our love's foul.

See the flower in the desert?
Under the dreadful red sun,
See the petals as they fall?
That is our love.

For you,
M. L.
Skaidrum Jun 2016
...
Spare me, if you would

It's a foreign land but a familiar street,
red broken teeth and alabaster snow;
I remember it fondly.

Sober winter and blue cloth;
I still see us there.
I'm almost certain, that
St. Petersburg questioned our youth.
just a little closer
"Dance with me, Kirusha?"
Always

All those years ago,
and we still drink up this disease.
The sour love of iron and wine
with shots of homesickness.
Russian rouge
American Dream
"Why did you have to leave?"

I ache to recall it,
because those gates still leak with cold.
This value withers in the white noise;
"Don't you ******* dare say that his death was just an experiment."
'You failure'

I sought it,
the ribbons of old confidence
while the stars looked on from their chairs.
I never found what I was looking for.

Go ahead and criticize;
the way we baptized my betrayal.
Knot up all the love you wasted
and send it overseas.

All that matters to me, Romichka
is that Death paid no mind to you.

Ruby apples at my doorstep
flowers that need blood instead of water.
A sense of hunger in this forsaken city
does not comfort me.

I just suppose
I've been thinkin' too much
And the bitterness let itself in again.

So when you find the time,
Write whatever's left of me in the fire;
along with all the other things.

...
I want to see you again
© Copywrite Skaidrum
Chris Thomas Jul 2017
The mind can only think so much
Before it wanders
Before it dampens
Before it derails

The heart can only take so much
Before it withers
Before it crumbles
Before it falters

Sever ties before they tighten
Sever love before it blooms
Sever us before I shatter
Sever these memories that loom

Because the mind can only think so much
Before it wanders
Before it dampens
Before it derails

And the heart can only take so much
Before it withers
Before it crumbles
Before it falters

.
Jarene Oct 2018
34
24
34
the numbers controlling my life
the numbers that i strive to be
pure perfection
causing my body to eat itself
while it withers away
into nothingness

im exhausted
trapped in hell
a hell created by numbers on a measuring tape
just one less calorie and i'll be okay
i'll be happy
finally beautiful enough

300
the calories fueling me through my days
as i drag along
until i find myself
closer
to the edge
of self destruction

deeper in hell i fall
trapped even further in the darkness
praying i can find my way
back to the light
back to sanity

ugh
i want my life back
i want to know what it is like
to wake up in the morning loving yourself
to look in the mirror not hating
every aspect
of the person
in front of you
to get through a day without
having to shield your face
to hide the burning tears
rolling down your cheeks  
to not have the
destructive thoughts
waiting
to drag you though the dirt
when you think you are finally okay

i want to know what it's like to be me
again
Join me on my journey to self love and enlightenment. Through all the pain, the good days, and the bad. This is me in the raw, completely bare, and valunarable. This is for al the people out there that are also suffering. Let's grow together. You are not alone!!!
L B Jun 2019
Lantern on a Rock

Sometimes I would look at him and know--
by his focus in the distance--
more often than we knew--

Alone
and far off
in the hills of Hatfield
walking with a stick
and can of bait in hand
Past some fields of corn and shade tobacco
like a **** along the road
he made his way

Sometimes to accompany the sun
toward its western home
He lay across Old Jerry's withers
as they clopped along
watching it set over the Connecticut
that curled its orange meandering
around the mountains
of imagining
its contentment

Later
after mother made the diner
with all the colors of a summer's glory
he went fishing in the moonlight
of his youth
with dearest friends

Lantern on a rock
of memory
to light the way
I have Dad's old milking lantern now. On my last visit with him, he talked about night fishing on the Connecticut River with it.  On another last visit as he gazed out across the valley, he said he wanted to be out hiking in those mountains.

Happy Father's Day Dad.
Dawn Jul 2014
Tear drops over tree tops
Splash and lets play

Grief withers away
Because change is coming
And yesterdays have left

Crying for what's yet
Drops for past wishes

Moan
Won't forget the sun
Gasp, hot lovin'
Just to feel enough

Shimmer
Times have come
And will be gone
Except for today
Everything just begins

Feathers dropping
Flowers blooming
Glittery pink skies
Hearing birds cry
Watching the moon rise
Cold night skies

Hold close
Won’t forget
Before it sinks
It isn't happening yet
But yesterday has come
And now it's went

Breathe

Grown deep
Sink and wave
Dancing today
Free falling tomorrow
Now smiles
No end...

Circular motions
Closing ceremonies
Yule tide greetings
New Moons
Creations create
Intentions, ready- set
Let's begin again
Running from the clouds that blur my vision
Endolge in you're silence that seems like my mission
The storm brakes my bones and withers my heart cold
Stuck between walls and the love I could no longer hold
With passing nights and endless days that seem all the same
My mind no longer thinks for itself
I can only hold my self to blame
Starting from the beginning I will birth a new
There will be no end to this story as long as it’s me and you
Pressure bonds me under waves of humility
I fear nothing more then spending life alone unwillingly
Take me home please for that's where I belong
I ran from the clouds that blurred my vision, now lost I am more then ever before.
Jeet Ratadia Sep 2016
It dwindles over the line of infinity
For a moment the world shines,
Illuminating this untimely second,
Of glory, of forgiveness and of life

It with its immeasurable beauty, and matchless game
Is an arrow so pure that nature bows
All of darkness and shadow withers
Every crevice and crack lights up......

Where only the wind speaks
The messengers of god,
Hit with its first show of tranquility,
Earn eternal freedom for a moment in peace

Yet, This spell so beautiful and serene,
So enchanting and magnificent,
Is a flower of hope,
It passes away…..

Far away, its falls
Under the line of infinity,
Its last hope flickers, yearns to exist
And Nature rules……
Spenser Bennett Jun 2016
Whether weather withers
Heavy penny pinchers
Or orders hor d'oeuvres
Don't mean I'm richer
I'm just not a city slicker
Don't say I'm bitter
I got honey in my pitcher
Oh no wait that's pilsner
Sorry I forgot my censor
And she told my I got a ****** up
******
There's a reason I don't miss her
And I'm just trying to be honest
But she left with my wallet
And now I'm elbow deep in Comet
Paying for a dinner, faux gras, I said that like ***** grass to the waiter
I know I can't pronounce it
**** it he's a hater
And she said see ya later
Later on Imma be Dark side
Like Master Vader
I roll up like high tide
And my homies roll up to Eastside
And I tried to go nuts
Now I gotta run hide
'Cuz bacon munch next door on their donuts
Call me crazen, brazen, but
I was cravin' me a donut
So I strolled up
And then she showed up
Tryna get some tacos
And she was with her ****-o
Head look like a rock-o
And he knows bout them rocks though
So I zip-zap-skidaddle
Back to the Eastside
Now the bar died
So I try to find a quick ride
Down to mi casa
But the cars they passa
Without no second glance - uh
Until I drive myself - uh
Now I'm in a jail cell
Callin' for a lawyuh
Writing out my woes nuh
Hiding from my phone bruh
Cigarettes at home
And my heads all full of fog
I should sleep this off
Imma sleep this off
Story poem/ Awful rap? Are those a thing? I feel like they're a thing.
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